


Sorry about the kittens

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Bunker Fluff, Humor, Kittens, Light Angst, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4245732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they walked over the hill in the road, they saw a little boy sitting at a fold-up card table with a cardboard box, swinging his legs over the side of his chair. Getting closer, Sam read the crooked black marker words on the side of the box - 'Free Kittens To A Good Home’ - and saw a little furry black and white head poke up out of the box. Cas picked up his pace. Oh no. Oh nonono.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry about the kittens

Sam breathed in a deep lungful of fresh air, holding back the cough that tickled in his lungs trying to crawl up his throat. He was fine, they could go a little farther. It was damp from the rain, slick on the pavement and lingering in the air, curls of fog still creeping around the trees. Quiet, peaceful.

These little walks with Cas around the country roads that stretched away from the rutted dirt road to the bunker, they were rejuvenating. Sam had started going stir crazy in the bunker after just a few days of Dean mother henning him. The trials took their toll, but Sam need to move, he needed out, to heal. One week. He gave Dean one week of bed-rest as his brother fretted. Kevin pitched in as well, a pinch in his brow and Sam knew he cared a lot too.

Halfway through the week of bed-rest, Cas had showed up. Human. Fallen. He was despondent and desperate and a little bit manic. Sam thinks that the walks are good for him too. As soon as Sam could stand up and walk himself to the bathroom, walk himself to the kitchen - without leaning on the wall - he needed to get out.

Dean fussed and threw a fit and growled, trying to threaten Sam, but Sam knew it for it was - concern. Cas needed to get out in the open air too, figure some things out for himself.

So they started going for walks.

At first, Sam could barely circle the bunker and he needed to lean on Cas towards the end. But every day he made it a few steps farther until he started getting better in bigger leaps and venturing down to the end of the road.

They invited Dean. He called it their ‘hippy time’ to commune with nature or whatever. He wasn’t far off. Dean needed his alone time to brood too - and clean the bunker, god every surface was squeaky and shiny. Dean was a nervous cleaner it turned out.

A lot of times Sam and Cas just walked in silence. It was companionable, easy. Sometimes their walks stretched out far along the back country roads when Sam’s legs were strong and his lungs were clear. Then their conversation would spool out between them like the trailing tails of clouds drifting aimless.

Cas had a lot of questions about humanity. How to be part of it. Sam figured he’d already come so far as an angel, he knew what humanity was better than a lot of humans. But it still made for interesting conversations. Bodily functions, and malfunctions, notions of purpose and worth, quiet whispers asking for forgiveness and understanding. Sometimes, they didn’t talk about anything and sometimes they talked about everything.

Sam needed understanding too, from and for himself most of all.

He liked his walks with Cas.

And Cas, in his own way, still included Dean. Sometimes it was a colorful rock that Cas found especially pretty, or a shiny scrap of bottle cap or litter. Cas would tuck these little finds in his hoodie - Sam didn’t know or ask what happened to the trench coat. When they would get back to the bunker, Sam would pretend not to watch Cas offering his little treasures to Dean and the soft half smile / half scowl that Dean would give Cas for them.

But then, Sam would find them lining Dean’s shelf when they curled up in the two beds they’d pushed together in Dean’s room. Dean was the epicenter, after all.

-

The sun was clear overhead and a few cotton ball clouds trailed across the sky lazily as Sam walked with Cas far enough that they reached the rolling wheat fields and the few old farmhouses that perched up long worn lanes.

Sam was in a good mood today, and Cas was in an even better mood.

Dean, for his part, and stopped keeping vigilance over Sam who was getting healthier and picking up weight noticeably. That meant Dean turned back to researching hunts and helping Kevin coordinate with the few people they had contact with that were keeping tabs on the ‘fallen angels’ situation.

It was good for him to have something to do that wasn’t worrying.

Cas was still quietly melancholy and guilty about everything that had happened. But last night, Dean had asked his help in cooking dinner and Cas’ smile hadn’t faded since. Cas needed to feel useful, to have something tangible and practical to do.

They talked about happy things on this walk, about possibilities, about the future.

Cas asked Sam if he wanted to turn around at their usual marker that was a gnarled hollow tree, but Sam wanted it to make to the cornflower blue farmhouse that sat just a little farther.

As they walked over the hill in the road, they saw a little boy sitting at a fold-up card table with a cardboard box, swinging his legs over the side of his chair. Getting closer, Sam read the crooked black marker words on the side of the box - 'Free Kittens To A Good Home’ - and saw a little furry black and white head poke up out of the box.

Cas picked up his pace.

Oh no. Oh nonono.

Sam strode up behind Cas ready to put a hand on his shoulder and steer him away, but the guy already had a hand in the box and when he turned around to Sam his eyes were wide and glassy, his lips were parted, as he cradled a tiny kitten in his hands oh so carefully.

Goddamit……

They were just so cute!

Both the kittens and Cas.

The little boy was smiling at them and one of his front teeth was missing, the knees of his jeans grass stained, his hair floppy and wild.

“Hey! Are you guys looking for kittens?”

“No -” was Sam’s answer as soon as Cas’ was “Yes!”

Well, they weren’t really looking for kittens, but they had found them.

Cas pushed his little ball of squirmy mewling fur at Sam, and it was so tiny that Sam could hold it in just one of his hands. The kitten was mostly white with a few splotches of black, it’s ears tipped in black too. Sam noticed that one black spot on it’s side looked like a heart.

Oh they were so taking this kitten home.

Gently cradling it close to his chest, Sam stared down at pitiful blue eyes and quivering whiskers.

They boy was talking to them. “Cats make great pets! They can take care of themselves a lot, but you have to remember to feed them. It’s a big responsibility. But they can catch mice and bugs and things. So that’s really cool. One time I found a dead mouse in my shoe. Mama says that cats earn their keep.”

Cas turned to Sam and the three other kittens were all cradled in his arms. Cheeks pink from the wind and hair tousled, his lip warbled a little as he held on to the kittens and begged Sam, “Please.”

Sam was rubbing his kitten behind the ear with a single finger and it was purring loudly.

“Yeah, ok. We can try to take a kitten back. Dean might go for it. Probably not. We can try. We’ll hide it.”

He really, really did not want to put his kitten down.

The kid stood and walked around the table to stand in front of them. "You guys look like pretty good guys, but you gotta pinky swear me that you’ll take good care of them. They’re a big responsibility.”

Cas nodded solemnly. “I swear to you, no harm will come to these cats.”

The boy looked happy about that, but he continued, “An’ you gotta take them to the cat doctor, mama said they don’t need their mother any more but in a few weeks they need to go to the doctor for stuff.”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, they need to get their shots and their check up. Don’t worry, I know how to take care of a cat.”

The boy nodded and held out a hand, fingers curled in except for his pinky. Sam couldn’t help the smile spread across his face as he extended one hand and curled his pinky around the boy’s. “I pinky swear.”

The kitten he was holding started climbing his shirt tenaciously, little nails pricking him, settling on his shoulder. Cas had watched the exchange curiously, and managed to shuffle the three cats he held into the crook of one arm so he could hold out his pinky finger and 'pinky swear’ too.

Sam said thank you one more time, figuring they’d take the kitten home that he had, seeing how comfy it was settled on him. Cas managed to set his three kittens back in the box and Sam turned to head back to the bunker, but as he did, Cas just picked up the box and waved to the young boy, taking all the kittens with them.

-

Four kittens. They had four kittens. Sam couldn’t stop giggling. They were just so cute. And even cuter than the kittens was Cas talking to the kittens in the box he propped on his hip. They discussed names, care, and strategies for hiding them from Dean on the whole walk back to the bunker.

The cat that Sam held, with the little heart on it’s side, was named 'Coeur’.

There was one all black cat with a tiny patch of white on it’s chest that they decided to name 'Luna’. The cat that was mostly white except for black on it’s nose and the tip of it’s tale was called 'Cotton’. And the one that scrambled out of it’s box, climbing up Cas’ arm, trying to nest in his hair, and falling down in to his hoodie, that cat got named 'Trouble’.

Sam was exhausted from walking so far that day, but by the time they got back to the bunker his heart was light with a sense of giddy excitement that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Stopping at the bunker door, Sam detached Coeur from his shoulder and passed the kitten to Cas, stroking down it’s back as it mewled. Cas, face bright with unrestrained joy as he smiled and cooed at the kittens, took the fourth one gladly.

“Just, uh, stay here a second Cas, I’m going to scope out where Dean is.”

“Of course.”

As quietly as one can open an old metal door, Sam snuck into the bunker and crouched on the landing to check out the immediate vicinity below. He spotted Dean in the library. Shit. Too close to the entrance.

Slipping back out, Sam swiped a hand over his face and thought about the situation.

Cas, idly petting a kitten, asked, “Perhaps we could sneak in?”

“Yeah. Yeah how about I provide a distraction and you take the kittens to your room?”

“Dean sometimes comes to my room. We could take them to a spare room?”

“You know what, we should get Kevin in on this.”

Cas nodded, one cat clinging to the front of his red hoodie, one perched on his shoulder, one halfway out of the box and one asleep in the box.

“We gotta get rid of the box. Can you hide them in your sweater?”

“Perhaps.”

Cas helped the kitten halfway out of the box up and into the pouch in his hoodie. Cotton seemed content there, head poking out curiously. Luna was scooped out of the box, weakly protesting with indignant squeaks. Sam took the box and broke it down, hiding it under leaves beside the stair well.

“We’ll come back for that later and burn it.”

Cas was stuffing his hoodie with kittens. They all fit, squirmy and lumpy, in to the pouch. Little pink noses and whiskers poked out the sides.

“Ok. Yeah. This’ll work, this is fine. I’m going to get Dean to turn his back or something, you just uh, try to be quiet and make it to Kevin’s room. Wait here five minutes, then sneak in.”

Cas was very serious as he calmed the kittens with gentle touches and told Sam, “I can do that.”

—–

Castiel bit his lip as Sam swung the door wide open to announce his presence and Castiel hid against the wall of the stairwell. Sam didn’t close the door all the way, so he could sneak in after five minutes more quietly. He listened carefully to the banal conversation of the brothers.

The kittens were not being very quiet. Or very still. It would be difficult to achieve stealth if they were not cooperative.

His sweater pouch bulged with the small things but they fit, poking heads over one another, jostling for position as they squeaked.

“I know this uncomfortable for you, but I promise once we get settled, Sam and I will take very good care of you.”

Scratching a few chins and smoothing a few ears, Castiel couldn’t believe how purely, wholly, the young kittens made him happy. He wanted to spoil them rotten. It had been difficult, trying to find a purpose for himself. To find meaning. This, the responsibility of another life, he could do this right.

After several minutes he crept into the bunker and crouched on the balcony. He could barely see the bottoms of Sam and Dean’s legs in the library. Taking a deep breath, he nudged the door closed as quiet as he could and snuck down the stairs. Holding his precious cargo carefully, the cats seemed to sense the gravity of the situation and held off their mewling. As soon as he reached the bottom of the steps, Castiel near sprinted - but gentle enough not to jostle the kittens - down the hallway and to Kevin’s room.

-

“No.”

Castiel stopped, barely inside the door to Kevin’s room. The young prophet had books spread open over his desk and was glaring at Castiel. The four kitten heads poked out of his sweater like a hydra and they were all back to their wriggling.

Castiel took one more step closer in to the room.

“Nope. Not dealing with this. You take those somewhere else.”

“Kevin, please, we could use your help.”

Kevin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before glaring at Castiel again. “Man, come on. Don’t you three make enough drama around here already? I’m not going to sit through a 'kitten wars’ sitcom episode.”

Castiel frowned, Trouble clambering out of the pocket to claw up his arm and perch on his shoulder again. “They needed a good home.”

Sam huffed into the room, closing the door behind him, face flushed with their success at deception and evasion. Sam picked Trouble off Castiel’s shoulder and nuzzled the kitten.

Kevin stood from his desk and folded his arms over his chest. “You know what. I’m going to find a reason to go in to the city. Then I’m going to find a reason to stay. For like a week. I don’t want any part of this.”

Sam gawked, as though thoroughly offended at the idea that there was someone else as grumpy as Dean who could dare turn their back on a kitten.

“Dude, Kevin, seriously? You’re not going to back us up on this?”

“No.”

-

Castiel could understand if Kevin didn’t want to get in the middle of what would inevitably be a cause of conflict between he, Sam and Dean. Once the kittens were found out. Logically and realistically, Castiel knew that their discovery was inevitable.

But for the time being, he reveled in their innocent, covert operation.

He and Sam found a spare room to set the cats up in. Sam made an excuse to go into town for supplies - alone - while Castiel kept the kittens company. They crawled all over him with tiny paws and stumbling awkwardness that was entirely too endearing. Castiel could not part with these kittens. They were his charges.

The four of them eagerly explored every corner of their new environment. Granted, the room was small for four cats, but it would be fine for the kittens for now. Castiel was certain they’d be discovered by the time the kittens grew up. He didn’t want to think about that. Right now, this was a little slice of happiness, a secret between he and Sam.

For days they kept the kittens hidden. They switched shifts. Monitored how much the kittens ate. Castiel was surprised at how fast they grew from tiny palm sized fur balls into slightly larger fur balls that he needed to cup in both hands.

Falling asleep with four kittens piled on his chest was not an experience that Castiel ever suspected he would have, but he was discovering a lot of these wondrous sorts of things lately. Like the gentleness of Sam’s hands against him when the kittens were curled up with Castiel. Stolen hours were shared laying against one another on a blanket nest on the floor, hands wandering and lips happy to kiss and laugh as they played with the kittens, and with each other.

Castiel almost wanted Dean to find out sooner, so he could share this.

——-

Something was up with Sam and Cas. Dean didn’t mind that they were really starting to bond. All the shit everyone had been through, it was rough to get over stuff like that. Dean still found himself angry every now and then about the stunt Cas pulled when he was trying to win heaven solo and ended up breaking Sam’s mind when he got in the way. Sam was, well a lot more forgiving than Dean.

Sam and Cas were…. they seemed happy. They seemed to have forgiven each other. They had both forgiven Dean. It seemed like Dean was the only one left who couldn’t forgive himself. But that was all right. And he was glad Sam was healing up nice, glad Cas was dealing his own shit storm well. He made a pretty good human, all things told. Weird, but good.

The past week though? Something was fucking going on.

It didn’t help that Dean’s allergies were driving him goddam crazy. It wasn’t even allergy season, was it. Nah, and besides he spent most of his time cooped up in the bunker. But his eyes were itchy and he couldn’t stop sneezing and maybe his grumpiness was affecting how he saw Cas and Sam.

Or maybe they were just shifty motherfuckers.

Dean was thinking about this, if it was just his usual levels of paranoia or his still too tight clutch of panic that he hadn’t quite shaken, while he made himself a sandwich. A nice thick turkey sandwich with onions and mustard. Fuck yeah. And a beer, even if it was just lunch.

He made sandwiches for Cas and Sam too, even though they’d been a bit scarce lately and it was hard to find them both in one spot at the same time. Except at night, then they were always in his bed and the solid grasp of hands, the steady breath across his skin, waking up to them warm and there, yeah as long as he had that he was good.

So Sam and Cas’ sandwiches were in the fridge while Dean sat at the table, legs sprawled, belching whenever he wanted because he had no company.

Suddenly, he felt a little prickling low down on his leg. Dean pushed away from the table. Looked down. And -

“What the fuck?!”

There was a kitten clawing it’s way up his jeans. Sitting on his lap. Jumping on the table. Reaching for his sandwich.

“Oh no you don’t you little shit - “

Dean reached out and grabbed the kitten before he had processed why the fuck there was a kitten in the kitchen in the first place and where the fuck it had come from.

When he heard the ‘oh shit’ down the hall and the sound of his sasquatch brother barging through the halls, followed by the quieter shuffle of Cas, then yeah Dean had aaaaaaall the answers.

Another cat beat Sam and Cas to the kitchen. Then another. What the fuck. There were three kittens - no, fuck, four - scampering around the kitchen and trying to climb Dean. He sneezed violently.

The bunker was being invaded.

_By kittens._

Sam appeared around the door frame, freezing stock still in his tracks when he saw Dean clutching one kitten and trying to save his sandwich from another two.

“What the fuck?”

“Shit, sorry, Dean, uh, they’re really good at - well, getting in to trouble.”

Cas came into the kitchen, flustered, scooping the cat out of Dean’s hold and shooing the others away from his sandwich with an apologetic, “Sorry.”

Dean, still in a state of shock, could only sit at the kitchen table as Cas and Sam surrounded him, blustering through excuses, distracting him, kissing him, promising him that they’d make it up to him.

-

So here was Dean, Cas between his thighs, getting his dick sucked as some kind of 'sorry about the kittens’ apology blow job.

And he was so fine with that.

Sitting mostly upright, propped against the headboard so all of them could fit, Dean had an excellent view. Hazy blue eyes looked up at him, pink lips wrapped around his cock, as Cas braced hands against Dean’s thighs. Back arched, the line of his spine leading up to that perky fucking ass that Sam had in his hands, Dean couldn’t decide between watching Cas suck him down and watching Sam finger Cas open.

Every now and then, Cas would go slack, just holding Dean’s cock in his mouth as his eyes fluttered and he bucked his hips back. Sam was smirking behind Cas like the smug little shit that he was. Squeezing one half of Cas’ ass in a massive palm, then the other, Sam ran one big hand up Cas’ back as his other arm pumped and twisted, pushing, fucking the sweetest little groans out of Cas’ mouth, muffled by Dean’s cock.

It was perfect. Honestly, Cas had always been great in bed if a little awkward, so eager to learn and eager to please. But after he’d gone human, there was a whole other side to Cas that was fascinated to feel out the world without a buffer of Grace.

Dean would never get it, he could not comprehend in the slightest what being an angel was like. But hedonism? Yeah, Dean had that covered. Although - being perfectly honest with himself - Sam was an even kinkier freak in bed than Dean. He was just a lot more quiet and reserved about it outside the bedroom.

Dean’s nose tickled. It crawled up skittery in the back of his throat and settled in his nose. Sniffling, he took one hand out of Cas’ hair to swipe at his nose. He left his other hand there, buried in dark tousles matting with sweat as Cas bobbed up and down on his cock. But he itched his nose, and again, and sniffled.

Goddam allergies.

Trying to breathe through it, push the sneeze back down, Dean was torn between finding a tissue and fucking Cas’ mouth.

You never, ever, sneeze on the person giving you a blow job.

He tapped Cas’ head, too busy holding his sneeze in to be able to talk. Sam was bent over Cas, licking all over the skin of his back and biting his hips. Dean heard a scratching outside the room. Looking over at the door, he saw a little black paw patting underneath the door.

But weren’t the kittens in their room?

A second paw appeared. Dean gasped as Cas’ throat fluttered around his cock, tongue pressing firm and spit dribbling wetly down his cock.

Cas was pink cheeked and rubbing his hands along Dean’s thighs, pushing back against Sam.

There was a little spotted kitten head pushing under the door.

What the fuck? How could it even fit it’s head under there?

In a feat of physics defying determination, Dean watched fascinated - unable to pull away from Cas - as a kitten wriggled it’s way under the door.

Ok, that was weird. Dean didn’t want them in the room when he was having sex with his brother and ex-angel. But he guessed it would be all right if the kitten just played with dust bunnies under the bed. So he went back to rolling his hips and tugging on Cas’ hair.

He was so close, so fucking close, to release when he made the mistake of writhing around a little too much and in the corner of his eye caught the kitten sitting on the bed side dresser.

Watching them.

Quietly licking one paw and just sitting there. Big ol’ blue kitten eyes open and unblinking.

God that was unnerving.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the feel of Cas’ mouth around him. Cas could do sinful things with that mouth. Scratching nails through his hair and mumbling praise, Dean bit his lip hovering on the edge as Cas teased him, pulling back and relenting just enough at the right spots to string Dean along.

When Dean opened his eyes again to find Sam burying his face in Cas’ tipped up ass, he was once again distracted by the kitten sitting on the dresser. He really didn’t want to interrupt things, so Dean just squirmed around and pulled a pillow out from beneath him. Then flung it at the cat.

Three things happened at once.

First, pillow hit the lamp which crashed to the floor and broke.

Second, the kitten jumped away with a complicated aerial maneuver that again defied the laws of physics, accompanied by a god awful howling screech.

Third, Sam and Cas both pulled up and stared at Dean with the most judgmental mcjudgy bitch faces he had ever seen. They matched. Sam and Cas’ fucking bitchfaces matched.

Sam scowled out, “Dean, what the fuck?!”

“Dude, it was creeping me out, it was watching!”

Cas smacked him on the thigh - smacked him! - “Don’t throw things at the kittens.”

Sam was already crawling off the bed. Cas - wedged in the middle of the fuck pile - was pushed against Dean.

Six and near a half foot of broad tan muscled, sweaty, and still decidedly erect Sam padded around the room giving little tongue clicks and what Dean supposed were meant to be comforting noises saying 'here kitty kitty’. His cock bounced up against his belly as he crouched down and coaxed the cat out from under a dresser.

Holding his hand that was still slick with lube and had just been inside Cas’ ass away from his body, Sam managed to wrangle the cat one handed into his embrace.

The cat was not happy.

“Shit, Cas, can you give me a hand with the door?”

Dean, still hard and getting his wires crossed, whined when Cas bounced off the bed. This just wasn’t fair.

As soon as Cas opened the door for Sam to let the kitten out, three more scampered in.

Dean groaned and slid down the bed, covering his naked flushed body with a sheet as Sam and Cas hurried after the kittens. They couldn’t really jump far or do much so Dean felt safe on the bed, until he saw little furry heads poking over the edge as they scaled up the blankets with sharp nails.

It was pretty goddam funny. Inconvenient though. The kittens were fucking cock blocking him. But watching Sam and Cas fluster around naked and sporting erections as they juggled kittens and tripped over each other, it was like some kind of weird avant-garde theatre piece.

It was funny, until Dean’s dick - still way too interested his two very hot naked partners - twitched under the sheets and a cat pounced on it.

-

One bruised ego, three scratched forearms, another broken lamp, a shredded sheet, Dean blushing furiously in mortification, Sam cleaning his hand on purell and tissues, Cas doling out kisses and apologies to all the kittens, and twenty three minutes later - and things were back on track. 

The kittens had all been gathered and shut back in their room. There was a towel wedged against the crack under the door to Dean’s room - so they couldn’t get in when they inevitably made their escape from their own room.

They were going to have to kitten proof the bunker. Later. When Dean could think straight again.

The only thing better than an apology blow job from Cas, was getting tag teamed by Cas and Sam.

They both jostled for position between his spread thighs. Sam could easily have sat next to him and shared nicely - they both could, lean over his lap, straddle his chest, there were a lot of ways to do this - but the two liked to try and wedge themselves together and see how wide they could push his legs.

Dean was getting pretty bendy.

On leg slung over Sam’s shoulder, the other folded nearly up to Dean’s chest, he was completely vulnerable and open as Sam and Cas went to fucking town. Sharing sloppy open mouthed kisses around his dick, they slid tongues and lips around the shaft as they kissed each other, kissed him, licked and pushed his dick between their faces.

Dean clutched at their hands, wove his fingers into their hair, reaching and tugging and pulling as they worked him into a frenzy. Without even leaving the hold of his legs, Sam snaked an arm under his bent leg and reached for the dresser - freaky long limbs. Slicking up his fingers, Sam focused on Dean’s ass while Cas happily resumed sucking his cock.

Working with the space they had, they settled with Cas more up and Sam more down. Cas closed his lips around the head of Dean’s cock and just swirled his tongue around it, lapping at all the most sensitive parts, nimble fingers stroking Dean’s hip, his trembling belly. Sam licked his broad tongue up the shaft, bumping up against Cas, before settling down and pulling one of Dean’s balls gently into his mouth.

Jesus, Sam knew how to work a pair of balls.

He couldn’t keep track of them. Fucking gold star team work. Their hands and their heat, their breath and their tongues - he was surrounded and overwhelmed. Keening and writhing underneath them, Dean knew he sounded pathetic and he had not a single fuck to give about it. He begged Sam to push his fingers in deeper, begged Cas to slide his mouth down farther, begged for more, harder.

Fuck, they could start a cat rescue shelter in the bunker. They could do damn near anything they wanted, if they just kept doing what they were doing with their mouths. Eyes rolling back in his head, Dean convulsed with the intensity of his climax. 

Ass pleasantly aching, dick spent and slick with so much spit, fucked breathless and to the point of uncontrollable giggles, Dean was sprawled on the bed when Sam and Cas finally pulled back.

“Ok, ok,” he panted, “The kittens can stay.”

Cas, smirking, moved off the bed and tugged at Dean’s arm. “Good. But we’re not done with you yet.”

“What?”

Sam, man handling Dean, got him flopped over on his belly sideways on the bed. Head almost hanging off, Cas was standing in front of him. He knelt one knee on the edge of the bed, hard cock bobbing in front of Dean’s face as his hands cradled Dean’s head, fingers brushing over his jaw and the pad of a thumb parting his lips.

Sam was nudging his legs apart and settling between them, sliding his cock along the crease of Dean’s ass, hands holding his hips down. “Not done by a long shot.”

The kittens could stay. If Cas and Sam were happy, then Dean was happy.

Happy, and stuffed full of cock.


End file.
